


Harder To Resist

by wadewilscns



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, Everyone Is Alive, Fix-It, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Movie: IT (2017), Movie: IT Chapter Two (2019), Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, theyre so fucking dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-25 19:18:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20729411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wadewilscns/pseuds/wadewilscns
Summary: “You good?” Richie spoke, voice filtered slightly through the paper-thin barrier, “You’re not dead or something, are you?”Eddie was snapped back into reality, reaching for his toothbrush. “Yeah man, I’m fine. Why?”Richie fell silent.“Just seemed lost in thought or something.”“I was,” sighed Eddie, spitting out his toothpaste. “There’s a lot to think about.”“What, like the fact that I snogged your mom?”--Aka theres a lot of reddie porn but i dont see why not LMAO





	Harder To Resist

The dishwasher was excessively loud that night.

Sitting in Richie’s apartment was an experience in and of itself; decor straddling the line between tacky and modern, either video game or movie DVDs lacing the coffee table he had his feet kicked up on, and to top it all off, the buzzing the freezer made at random intervals in time. It almost felt like a second home to him with all of the familiar noises, to the point where Eddie had started labeling them all.

It was also either too bright or too dark. Mood lighting wasn’t even an option with the way Richie’s lamps worked, but he was at least lucky to have any, at that. Eddie tried to ignore it. But, deep down, he wanted to whip this place back up into shape like it was his. Like it was theirs.

It was too early to be thinking about that at this point, either way. At least he knew for the future; if there was one foreseeable. He was staying with Richie for one night only while finalizing his divorce, he couldn’t get too nitpicky. 

That’s when he recognized the familiar knob creaking coming from Richie’s bedroom, and the pitter-patter of water trailing that.

“Rich,” Eddie spoke, loudly enough for Richie to hear him from the restroom, “I thought we were going to start a movie.”

A brief silence followed.

“Just give me ten minutes, Eds,” Richie shouted back, “I’ll be out faster than the speed of sound.”

Eddie scoffed, not sure whether that reaction of his had come from the nickname or the metaphor used in Richie’s phrase.

He turned the TV on in front of him, and sprawled out on the couch. He was dressed in something appropriate for 9pm on a Friday; a maroon cotton shirt and some loose-fitting shorts he could sleep in. Netflix looked like eye candy about now.

As Stranger Things slowly transitioned from a focus to simply background noise, Eddie started to get impatient. He checked how long he was into the episode, toying with the remote as if it were something a small child would fidget with.

11 minutes. Who the hell showers for 11 minutes?

He rolled his eyes, and put in the genuine effort needed to lift himself off of the couch. He then cracked his wrists and made his way into the bedroom.

He knocked twice on the door using the back of his hand, save a few his rear knuckles. It stung a bit, a scar from the final battle with Pennywise cascading across a finger. It probably came from when he was thrown across the cave via a giant tendril into a rock-hard surface.

“Richie, your ten minutes are up,” he sighed, listening for him to respond. He was patient, knowing that the water was louder from the inside.

“I don’t see a sign.”

That’s when it clicked.

They both remembered something.

It wasn’t just any old memory, it was the one they had recalled earlier as well concerning the hammock and shower caps. It was taking time for the puzzle pieces to fit properly again, but once they did, they could pull it up in the back of their heads as if it had happened yesterday.

-  
A younger Richie was sitting in a hammock reading a comic book, the front undecodable. Eddie, also a youth, approached him, arm still in that old cast.

“Richie, it’s my turn,” he started, noticing that Bill was side-eyeing them from the other side of their hideout, “Your ten minutes are up.”

Richie repositioned his glasses, not even bothering to glance up. “I don’t see a sign.”  
-

They couldn’t recall much in order after that, but the flashback ended as suddenly as it had come. The only other slice of the flashback they could piece together was Bev lighting her cigarette, Ben helping her shield it from the wind. Irrelevant, but a nice trip down memory lane.

Another memory regained, which had been previously lost to Pennywise. Precious years of their youth they’d have to unlock again similarly to this one was in store, but if there were more raw moments of them together like this, it was probably going to be worth it in the long run.

He heard Richie groan.

“Did you, uh,” he started, his voice echoing from inside the bathroom, “You saw that too, right? I’m not high or something?”

“I did see it, yeah,” Eddie replied almost immediately, as if he were prompted to do so.

More silence trailed, at that.

“I need my toothbrush.”

From the other side of the door, he heard the shower curtain close a bit further.

“Come on in then, just make sure to hide your erection.”

Eddie scoffed at the crude remark, but he was certain Richie could hear him gently chuckling under his breath. He turned the knob open and stepped into the restroom.

After closing the door behind him, he knew right off the bat that, even though Richie was clearly joking, said hiding was not going to be an easy task. His dick twitched almost immediately.

He had frozen up, knowing that Richie was only around 2 feet away from him in the shower, completely naked. It left him wondering what his physique looked like; how his forearms would feel if he ran his hands up and down them. He thought of the sensation his fingertips would react to carding themselves through his soft black curls, and the way his soft bottom lip would bleed if Richie bit on it in just the right way--

“You good?” Richie spoke, voice filtered slightly through the paper-thin barrier, “You’re not dead or something, are you?”

Eddie was snapped back into reality, reaching for his toothbrush. “Yeah man, I’m fine. Why?”

Richie fell silent.

“Just seemed lost in thought or something.”

“I was,” sighed Eddie, spitting out his toothpaste. “There’s a lot to think about.”

“What, like the fact that I snogged your mom?”

Eddie had to laugh at his choice of words. Richie was surely a comedian; he’d give him that.

“I, uh,” Eddie started, leaning against the wall, “I really thought I was going to die that night, y’know?”

Richie sighed.

“And I could hear you, Rich,” Eddie continued, sulking to the tiled floor, “I heard you calling out for me as the house caved in. You’re a loud guy.”

Richie had no reason to cut in and interrupt Eddie’s sappy paraphrases; he had no choice but to listen.

“And Bev told me about the kissing bridge.”

“She fucking what?” gasped Richie, more disbelief than anger in his voice, “That’s beside the point. Listen, I can explain the carving-”

He was cut off by Eddie slamming his fist against the wall.

“I don’t want you to, Richie!” 

It was silent again, even more so when Richie turned off the water.

“Why?” Richie murmured, his voice sounding almost as if someone had taken a stab at it. 

“Because I,” Eddie sighed. “I,”

“If you didn’t mean what I thought you meant, I’d rather not know than be let down.” Eddie felt a surge of adrenaline course through his veins, almost as if it were eating him up. What was worse was the toll it was taking on his mentality as the playback of his words echoed throughout his head. He was petrified in regards to preparation for Richie’s response.

He waited patiently.

“Eds, I have like, one braincell,” he snorted, a soft chuckle rolling off his tongue, “I don’t get it.”

Eddie inhaled through his nose.

“I need my inhaler.”

Richie huffed out gently. “Check the medicine cabinet.”

Eddie struggled to stand up, using the sink as a lifeline to pull himself off of the ground. He then fumbled through the cabinet behind the mirror, almost as if he were on the clock to retrieve his inhaler.

“I meant it romantically, Eds,” Richie admitted, Eddie’s head turning towards the shower curtain as he took a puff of his medication, “The whole bridge-pocket knife-carving fiasco. I really thought I was going to lose you.” 

Eddie stopped breathing for a moment. It was possibly one of the sweetest things Richie had said to him. He never knew Richie likes him, well, in that way, but he has had his two cents on the topic. He didn’t know what to say.

Those words hurt worse than any impalation Eddie could receive from a shape-shifting clown.

“I really need to get dressed, though.”

“Right,” Eddie whispered to himself, turning around and exiting the restroom via the door. He closed it gently behind him, listening for the comforting creak of the hinges.

He could hear Richie pick up his glasses from off the sink, the sound of plastic on plastic ringing familiarly in his ears.

“Rich,” Eddie gathered up the confidence to say, turning towards the door once again, “Is the door locked?”

He could hear Richie stop moving. “Who’s asking?”

“Me.”

Richie chuckled under his breath.

“And why is that?”

Eddie knew what he wanted to say. I want to barge in there and kiss you. I want to pin your wrists above your head against the tile wall as I plant hickeys along your jawline, down your neck, and on your freckled shoulders. I want both the neighbors and I to memorize the sound of your moans, your soft grunts becoming our favourite song. I want to see my teeth marks on your chest tomorrow morning when we wake up, asking me while you’re shirtless to go out and buy you a turtleneck despite the temperature outside. I want to fuck you up, and fuck you up bad.

“No reason.”

There was silence.

“Get the fuck in here before I lose my shit, Kaspbrak.”

Richie didn’t have to ask twice.

Eddie turned the doorknob eagerly, and he hadn’t even fully stepped into the room when Richie had grabbed the hem of his shirt with a wet fist and smashed their lips together.

It was almost an awkward head bonk, teeth clashing together mercilessly, but it was the product of 27 years worth of pining. Almost 3 decades of almost “I love you”s, gentle hand brushes, and sheer fear of being rejected by the other. 27 years worth of “I fucking hate you Tozier”s and “Go to hell, Kaspbrak”s. It hurt so good.

Richie didn’t take his time slipping his tongue into Eddie’s mouth, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. There wasn’t a place in there his tongue hadn’t been by the time Eddie was struggling to take his shirt off.

“Fuck,” Eddie moaned, tipping his head back and tugging on Richie’s hair as he sucked a line of wet hickeys down his jawline. Despite how battered they’d look the next day, he let it happen, knowing he wanted this more than he didn’t. He almost died, but it didn’t come, even after nearly being buried in rubble and ash.

Richie traced his tongue down Eddie’s neck, planting kisses on every inch of the soft skin wrapping his collarbones. Richie had Eddie under a trance; all he could do was moan and take it.

“Fuck, I’m not going to last much longer,” whined Eddie, letting Richie pin his hands behind him. 

“Me neither,” Richie managed to moan out in between the biting and kissing, “I guess this is a cue for you to take your pants off or something.” 

“The fuck have you been waiting for, Armageddon?” Eddie chuckled, arousal in his voice. Richie’s hands immediately dropped down to Eddie’s hips, taking off both his underwear and his loose-fitting shorts in one tug. The second he could wrap his hands around it, Richie worked to pleasure Eddie, tight and consistent pumps following suit.

Eddie could have sworn he was seeing stars. He felt everything; one of Richie’s thumbs in his mouth, his other hand wrapped around his cock and his lips whispering sweet nothings into his ears. It was so overwhelmingly good- something Myra could never do for him.

He felt so small and exposed compared to Richie, towering over him and playing with him as he pleased, but he relaxed himself and took it. He could see flashes of them together as kids, memories slowly starting to flood back as he moaned obscenely. He saw Bev smoking, Bill almost breaking his mom’s expensive vase (which they ended up laughing about), Stanley helping him with his homework, Ben and Mike discussing their favourite flavours of ice cream--

And Richie. He could finally see a younger Richie clearly in his mind, marveling internally at his big bug eyes hidden behind his glasses and his stupid Hawaiian shirts. How he always had something dumb to say no matter how serious a conversation, and the way the words “let’s kill this fucking clown” rolled off his tongue like it belonged there. He owned every iconic phrase he said and executed it perfectly. Richie was perfect.

“Fuck, Richie!” Eddie finally moaned, allowing himself to release all over the two of them, Richie proceeding him. It was wet and sticky, something Eddie wouldn’t typically enjoy.

“Damn, no comment on how gross this is?” Richie commented smugly, caressing Eddie’s cheek gently, “The sex must’ve been really good.”

“You think, dipshit?”

**Author's Note:**

> uhhhhhhhhhhh,,, sorry


End file.
